When Paul wrote these words, probably around 56 AD, he was in Macedonia on his third missionary journey with Timothy. The words above suggest he was dealing with difficult issues within the newly formed Corinthian congregation. He emphasizes the vast space between eternal and temporal problems.

I have pondered these words many times over the years. What are the ‘things that can’t be seen’? And why are they eternal?

I am reminded of a children’s book I read to our son and daughter when they were growing up. The book, by Shel Silverstein, named The Giving Tree, published in 1964, was a bestseller and is still in publication.

In the story, a boy and an apple tree are friends. The boy climbs up the tree, plays ‘king of the forest,’ swings from her branches, eats her apples, and sleeps in her shade. The boy loves the tree, and the tree is happy. But as the boy grows older, he spends more and more time away from the tree. When he does come to visit, he tells the tree he needs money, and the tree offers her apples. He takes the apples to sell, and the tree is happy. A long time later, the boy returns and tells the tree he needs a house. The tree offers her branches for lumber, and the boy cuts them and takes them away. And the tree is happy. After another long interval, the boy returns, a sad and aging man. He tells the tree he wants a boat to take him far away. The tree offers her trunk, and the boy cuts down the trunk to make a boat and sails away. And the tree is happy, but not really. Finally, the boy returns as an old man, and the tree, now a stump, has nothing to give him. But all he desires is a place to rest. And the tree offers her stump as a place of rest. The boy sits. And the tree is happy.

This story is a parable that has been interpreted in many ways. But it can be seen as symbolizing the relationship between God and humans. The boy’s body, as he ages, is breaking down every day. The boy seems to value only ‘the things that can be seen’: money, a house, a boat. But as he ages, he realizes that the things that can be seen are temporary. The things that can’t be seen—the eternal love that the tree holds for him— draws him back again and again. When he returns as an old man, he is seeking a place of rest and relationship. The tree, like God, is happy.

I live in a senior independent living community. All of us recognize that ‘our bodies are breaking down on the outside.’ The things that matter in our lives—love for friends, family, and our neighbors wherever they are—can’t be seen, but they are building up a stockpile of glory because they have eternal consequences. The kindness we show today can transform the life of a fellow human in ways we will never recognize, in ways that may even be eternal. Like the tree stump for the tired old man, we can still show love at this stage of life.

Let us pray: Dear Lord, thank you for the gift of your sacrificial love. Thank you for welcoming us back again and again when we realize that material things do not bring happiness. Thank you for connecting us with the love that cannot always be seen but always transforms. Amen.

This devotion was written by Laura Derr and read by Judy Wilson.

Grace for All is a daily devotional podcast produced by the members of the congregation of First United Methodist Church in Maryville, Tennessee. With these...

My grandfather used to say with a straight face that he owned one of Abraham Lincoln's axes. "It's had eight handles and six heads since he owned it," he'd say, "but it's still his."

I laughed at that when I was a kid, but now it sounds to me like something a bunch of philosophers might sit around a table and argue about: "If every part of a thing has been replaced, is it the same thing?" As it happens, there is a big table and a big bunch of philosophers, and they're still arguing. It's known as "The Ship of Theseus Paradox."

Theseus was a legendary Greek hero who saved Athens by slaying the minotaur. The Athenians preserved his ship in their harbor as a tribute. Over the years, as planks rotted, they replaced them with new wood. Eventually, every original plank had been swapped out. Is it still the same ship?

Is my grandfather's axe still one of Abraham Lincoln's?

It's a great question, and philosophers are still arguing about it.

Paul's words to the Corinthians would fit right in at that table full of arguing philosophers. If anyone is in Christ, he's a new creation - the old has passed away, the new has come. But that raises the same puzzle: If I'm a new creation, am I still me? If everything old has passed away, what am I then?

Here's what I know. The person I was twenty years ago—the habits and fears that once shaped me have been replaced, and probably will be replaced again. God's been replacing my rotted planks: bitterness for forgiveness, shame for acceptance, anxiety for trust. When I look back over the years, I can see it: I'm being rebuilt.

This is what Paul means when he says we become new creations in Christ. The moment we put our faith in him, something instantly changes. Our relationship with God is restored, and we're adopted into his family. But it's also the start of a lifetime of God rebuilding us to be more like Christ. We're not the same people we were, yet we're still ourselves. We become both new and more truly who God created us to be all along.

The Church itself has been under the same kind of reconstruction for two thousand years. Members who sat in these pews decades ago have gone home to be with the Lord. New believers have joined. Children have grown up and brought their own children. The "planks" of the Body are constantly being replaced.

Yet it's still the Church. The same Body that gathered in upper rooms and sang in catacombs. What makes it the same isn't the individual members—it's the Spirit dwelling in us, the mission we carry forward, the grace that flows through us.

So when you wonder if you're still you after all God has done in your life, the answer is yes. And when you wonder if the Church can really be the same after all these centuries, the answer is also yes.

Because our identity isn't found in the planks or the handles, it's found in the Builder.

Father, thank you for your patient work of rebuilding us, plank by plank, into new creations while keeping us wholly ourselves. Help us trust the process of transformation, both in our individual lives and in the life of your Church. Amen.

This devotional was written and read by Cliff McCartney.

Grace for All is a daily devotional podcast produced by the members of the congregation of First United Methodist Church in Maryville, Tennessee. With these devotionals, we want to remind listeners on a daily basis of the love and grace that God extends to all human beings, no matter their location, status, or condition in life.

If you would like to respond to these devotionals in any way, we would enjoy hearing from you. Our email address is:

Welcome to the Saturday episode of the Grace for All podcast. Thank you for joining us today. Saturday is a special time when we take a few moments to review the scriptures that we have cited in the episodes this week.

If you missed any of those episodes, you might want to consider listening to them today. And even if you heard them all, there may be one that you might want to listen to again. We hope that each of these scriptures and podcasts will bring you a full measure of joy, peace, and love.

Now, let's listen to the scriptures that have been on our hearts this week.

Grace for All is a daily devotional podcast produced by the members of the congregation of First United Methodist Church in Maryville, Tennessee. With these devotionals, we want to remind listeners on a daily basis of the love and grace that God extends to all human beings, no matter their location, status, or condition in life.

If you would like to respond to these devotionals in any way, we would enjoy hearing from you. Our email address is: podcasts@1stchurch.org.

First United Methodist Church is a lively, spirit-filled congregation whose goal is to spread the message of love and grace into our community and throughout the world. We are located on the web at https://1stchurch.org/.